Welcome to the first year of the Annual Fandom Games!
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The Fandom Games
Here’s the list of tributes from Greatest amount of votes to Least.
The eliminated tributes will be taken from the bottom 6, which are currently italicized. The judges will post their choices later today and/or tomorrow.
District 1: Supernatural
District 2: Sherlock
District 3: Doctor Who
District 4: Marvel
District 5: Tolkien
elindil
District 6: Harry Potter
District 7: Hannibal
District 8: Star Trek
District 9: Teen Wolf
District 10: Once Upon a Time
District 11: Merlin
District 12: The Hunger Games
Tributes, sponsors, and spectators: get ready! The poll will be posted within the next 12 hours, and it will be up to each fandom to gather as many votes as it can for 72 hours! Afterwards the judges will make their final decisions, and tributes will either be eliminated or carry on to the second round!
Happy Fandom Games. Panemblr today, Panemblr tomorrow, Panemblr forever.
“Peeta.”
“Yes, Katniss?” A smirk danced upon his lips.
“Do I really have to tell you to stop?” She frowned.
“Maybe.” His smile grew.
“Peeta, stop. He’s gonna wake up.”
“No he won’t, he’s out cold.”
“Still! He’s gonna kill you when he wakes up.” Peeta glances back at her and laughs.
“Haha, so? I’m not scared of him.”
Katniss scoffed and shook her head. No matter how much she griped at him, she’d never stop Peeta from drawing on Haymitch’s face when he passes out, drunk. “Come on,” Peeta encouraged, holding up a marker. “He could really use a unibrow.” She laughed and gave in, taking the marker from him and joining him in defiling the face of their friend.
Sherlock Holmes lay perfectly still on the couch of 221B Baker Street. Three nicotine patches on his left forearm. His chest rose and fell with every breath he drew in. His eyes were closed and his mind was for once clear. Except for one thing.
His blogger.
Then there was a knock at the door, followed by the creek of it opening. Sherlock remained still and silent. The footsteps ascending the stairs told him it was John Watson.
“Sher-“
“Hello, John. How was the Sex Vacation?” His eyes flashed open and he quickly sat upright.
“Honeymoon, Sherlock.” He sighed. “It was pleasant.”
“What are you doing here, John? Do you not have a pregnant wife at home?” He got up and walked silently to his chair.
“Yes, I do. But I wanted to make sure you weren’t dead. Is it alright that I’m worried about my best friend?”
“Is that the only time you’re going to see me? When you’re worried?” He sat down in his chair and clasped his hands together. “It’s not going to be the same.”
“Yes it will. We’ll still solve cases. I’ll still think you’re a dickhead. But you know what made it different? When I thought you were dead!”
Sherlock’s face was frozen; he was speechless.
aint-no-me-if-there-aint-no-sam:
Merthur (Arthur/Merlin)
Merlin: Bold
Arthur: Italic
Accidents
“I thought he said he’ll be back in ten minutes.”
“The Doctor will be back soon Rory, just give him a few more minutes.”
Rory rolled his eyes as he sat down on the steps of the control room in the TARDIS. He watched Amy lean on the console, her arms crossed with impatience. They had been waiting in the control room for twenty minutes because the Doctor couldn’t find a fuse to replace the one he had just broken.
Amy sighed, “You’re glaring.”
”I am not! I was thinking!”
“About?” She raised an eyebrow to her husband.
